


A Thousand Reassurances

by Starlight1395



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, College AU, Drinking to Cope, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Masturbation, Mingi/Felix for a brief second, Non Idol AU, One Sided Love, Open Ending, Panic Attacks, Second Person, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, explicit self-harm scene, felix-centric, mentioned eating disorder, other members brought in briefly, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlight1395/pseuds/Starlight1395
Summary: You hid the scars, and the tears, and the pills behind smiles and promises of "I'm okay!" because you didn't want your friends to worry - especially not Chan, who had  been your rock for the better part of five years. He was your best friend, who wiped your tears and cleaned your cuts and reminded you that you're not worthless - that your life is something worth being treated gently.You don't want to bring Chan down, but you just keep spiraling and spiraling. You can't help it - you're shattered, after all. A shattered, broken, worthless excuse for a boy. Who could ever love something like that?AKA Felix deals with the side effects of bottling everything up for too long and has to face his friends head on when the bottle finally explodes.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Lee Felix (Stray Kids) & Everyone
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	A Thousand Reassurances

You looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to do the exercise Chan had given you - find as many good things about yourself as you can. Sometimes it was easy, but other times it was near impossible.

It was one of the latter nights, it seemed.

Your eyes ghosted over freckles that marked your cheeks and nose. You used to love them, thinking they were kisses from the sun. When you moved to South Korea at age 14, you learned to hate them - the kids in your new high school weren’t nearly as kind as you tried to be to them. They called him dirty, teasing him for being too tan - too foreign, with your accent and mannerisms.

Then you started to meet the others. Hyunjin, Jisung, and Seungmin, who were in your grade. Jeongin, in the year below you. Minho and Changbin a year ahead, and Chan who was graduating at the end of that year.

It was around then that you started to like your freckles again. It was hard, and sometimes you found yourself scrubbing at your face, as if it would erase the sun kisses from your skin permanently.

Chan always knew when you were having a bad day, because he would see how raw and painful your cheeks were. He would pull you into his arms and whisper into your ear how much you were loved - he would remind you that you were beautiful, and precious, and that your life was something worth treating gently.

Each and every time, you would break down against his chest, your fingers digging into his shoulders. Chan never seemed to mind, rubbing your back and whispering for as long as you needed him to. Even afterwards, Chan would wrap you in his comforter - the warm, nice smelling one that always made you feel safe - and make you something sweet. He would cuddle with you until you fell asleep, and he would still be there when you woke.

After Chan graduated, your last two years of high school were... lonely. You still had the others, but they all had their own lives as well. They had clubs, and sports, and friends and family. They couldn’t spend every moment with you, and you felt guilty piling your insecurities onto them, just as you felt guilty calling Chan at two in the morning when your panic attacks got to be too much.

You stared at yourself, trying to figure out if you were real or not. The house was silent - after graduating, all eight of you managed to bend the rules to rent a single house right off campus. It had been the luck of the draw that you all managed to get into the same college, even though you all had such different majors.

Jisung, your roommate, must still be at the music building with Chan and Changbin. Minho said he would be at the studio late, and knowing Hyunjin, he was probably with the older boy. Seungmin spent late nights in the library, focusing on his engineering classes, while Jeongin already told them he was staying at a friend’s dorm for the night.

So there was no one home to hear you cry. You poked at your cheeks, silent tears soaking them. Your face was still so round, even though you had been trying to lose your baby weight. Chan said you were getting too thin, but he obviously didn’t see what you did.

Your leg itched. You reached down and scratched the lines marring your skin mindlessly, your nails too short and the cuts too old to cause any real damage.

You knew you should call Chan. He would drop everything to help you through this, but you didn’t want to be a burden. This was your third breakdown this month. You couldn’t do that to him again - Chan had a big project due soon, and he had been working tirelessly on it for the last week, only stopping when someone else from the friend group forced him to rest. You couldn’t take him away from his work for ANOTHER break down.

Your face twisted in agony. Why couldn’t you be normal? Why were you so broken?

Your phone read 11:47. Your first class tomorrow started at noon, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep any time soon. You could never sleep when you felt like this - your brain held you hostage for hours.

Sitting on your bed, you pulled something from your bedside table - A bottle of sleeping pills that no one knew you had. You shook four of the small pills into your palm, knowing they weren’t going to help. You hoped that maybe a placebo effect might kick in and you’d be able to drift off - but that’s what you hoped for every time, and every time you were disappointed. You threw them back with water that had been sitting next to your bed for... you couldn’t remember how long it’s been there, but it didn’t taste weird, so it was fine.

You crawled under the covers, your body humming. You needed to do something, but you knew you couldn’t. Chan would be so upset if you relapsed - you were almost a month clean, and hearing him say how proud he was of you for making it that far was one of the only motivations you still had.

No one would be home for at least another hour, the building eerily silent. You turned over and put some music on, not being able to handle the silence anymore. You couldn’t even focus on the music as it filled the air.

You ran a hand down your chest, letting your fingertips gently trail against your skin. Your stomach was soft - at one point, you had abs, but you let yourself go since getting to college. Your friends said you looked fine, and that gaining a little weight wasn’t a bad thing, but you couldn’t help but miss how toned you used to be.

The last person you had hooked up with said they adored how slim your waist was, yet how soft your stomach and thighs were. At the time it made you feel good, but now you weren’t so sure. Was being soft good? Were you good?

You gripped yourself, rutting against your hand gently. Lately, masturbating was one of the only things that made you feel something - whenever you wanted to cut, you would jerk off once, or twice, or three times depending on how fucking bad you wanted to give in and take your razor and slice your fuckING LEG OPEN-

You closed your eyes, trying to imagine you were somewhere else. The faceless boy above you whispered in your ear, telling you how pretty you were, how perfect you were for him, all spread out and flushed.

“So pretty,” The boy would whine, his dick slipping between your thighs. “So soft and good for me. I love you so much, Felix.”

You came in your hand, a short whimper leaving your lips. The high from your orgasm fades before the warmth splattered on your fingers does, leaving you feeling even more empty than you did before. You wiped your hand with some tissues and balled them up, dropping them under your bed. Future you can deal with that.

Letting your eyes fall closed, you could feel heat building behind your eyelids. You didn’t want to cry anymore, but you felt so lost. You curled in on yourself, thinking maybe if you were smaller, there would be less room to be completely, mind numbingly empty.

It could have been five minutes, or an hour. Either way, you had started shaking at some point and you could feel your chest constricting. You rolled back over and grabbed your phone, doing the one thing you promised yourself you wouldn’t do.

The call only rang three times before Chan was picking up.

“Oi Lix,” he said, his words slurring with exhaustion. “Everythin’ alright? Ain’t it late for ya?”

“I-” You felt yourself choke up. You coughed before letting out a light chuckle. “I wanted to make sure you were taking breaks. Why don’t you come home? We can cuddle for a bit, and I can make up breakfast in the morning before I go to class.”

“I wish I could,” You could tell by the tone of his voice that Chan was being painfully honest - it really did sound like the older boy would do anything to come home and cuddle with his best friend, but- “But I can’t.... Not yet at least. This project is due Sunday, and there’s just something about it that isn’t right yet...”

“At least send Sungie and Changbin hyung back,” you fought to keep your voice level as tears started to soak into your pillow. “They can stop and gather the troops.”

“Are Minho and Hyunjin still at the studio?” Chan sounded like he was frowning. Why was it that Chan only cared when it came to the others? Why didn’t he ever care about his own health?

“And Seungmin should still be at the library.”

Chan cursed under his breath. “Yeah, I’ll kick them out as soon as I hang up. I’ll tell them to drag everyone home, even if they’re kicking and screaming.”

“Look at you,” you giggled, your chest so tight you thought you were going to throw up, but you couldn’t let that show. “Once a dad, always a dad.”

“What can I say?” Chan chuckled back. He sounded lighter, so maybe this call hadn’t been for nothing. “I just love my kids.”

“Come home soon, okay?” You could hear how your voice trembled, so you knew Chan heard it as well.

“Are you okay?” The mirth was immediately gone from his tone. “I can come home if you need me-”

“No,” You cut him off softly. “Just tired. I just need to get some sleep and I’ll be A-okay.”

“Are you sure?”

You knew. You knew that all it would take is a simple ‘no’ and Chan would be packing his things up. One simple syllable and you could have your best friend by your side as you sobbed yourself to sleep again.

“Yeah,” You silently cursed yourself. “I promise.”

“If you say so...” Chan still sounded hesitant, but he didn’t push it. You knew if his project wasn’t due in four days time he wouldn’t risk you being alone if he had even a single hunch that something might be wrong.

You KNEW this, but it didn’t stop your stomach from cramping at how easily Chan seemed to give up on you.

“Love you hyung.” You whispered.

“Love you too Pixie.” Chan was smiling. You could hear it through the phone.

You hung up first. If you stayed on the call any longer, you’d break and beg him to come home. Plugging your phone back in, the silence seemed to ring in your ears. You closed your eyes, praying to a God you knew didn’t exist to let you rest for just one night.

When the others pushed through the front door, you didn’t move. You could hear them whispering and shushing each other - hissing to keep their voices down so they wouldn’t wake you. Little did they know you weren’t asleep.

You knew that you wouldn’t get any sleep that night. You could take more pills, but you knew it would be useless.

Just like you were.

* * *

You laughed brightly, the sound being smothered by the music pounding through the bluetooth system Changbin and Jisung has set up through the bottom half of the house. It was a Friday night, but you weren’t entirely sure which Friday. The days seemed to blend together to the point where you were lucky you knew when you had class.

It was a Friday night, and Jisung had convinced you all to throw a party. Apparently he had gotten into a fight with one of the asshole Business major frat boys who claimed music majors couldn’t throw a party if their life depended on it. Jisung, taking it as a personal offence, did everything in his power to prove him wrong.

There were easily fifty people shoved in their house, with another twenty or so out in the backyard. Loud music pumped through the speakers, making the walls vibrate. You were glad Chan thought ahead and physically blocked off the upstairs so no one would try to sneak off into your rooms to fuck - at least, not without your permission.

The alcohol buzzed through your system and you couldn’t help but let out another laugh - you missed this feeling! You missed being drunk, with the spinning room and the bubbles that popped in your chest, making it feel like you were floating.

“Felix!” A familiar voice called. You turned and saw a boy from one of your writing classes. He was much taller than you, with a sharp nose and wide smile.

“Mingi,” You grinned back at him. You had always thought he was cute, but he sat on the opposite side of the class as you, and you were too shy to change your not-assigned assigned seat. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Neither did I, until Wooyoung almost beat down my door,” He laughed and you felt your core warm a little. The colorful lights around the room seemed to make the taller boy’s angled features even sharper. “What’s in the cup?”

“Honestly I have no clue anymore,” You laughed, holding your cup out for him to try. He took the offered sip and grimaced. “Not good?”

“That tastes like tequila with a dash of juice,” He made a face. “How long have you been drinking?”

“What time is it?”

“Almost ten?”

“Then... since noon.” You giggled lightly, downing the rest of your cup. The others had been doing shots with you throughout the day as they prepared for the party, but they always seemed to underestimate how much alcohol you could handle. You looked like a lightweight, but you’ve built up enough of a tolerance that you could out drink almost anyone.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Mingi smiled at you, and you felt yourself blush. He really was quite handsome, and you were lowkey looking to at least make out with someone that night.

“Why don’t we get you a drink?” You suggested, taking his hand. His fingers were so large against yours, instantly curling around them to make sure you didn't get separated. You made your way into the kitchen, your already tight jeans feeling just a little tighter at the prospect of having those hands elsewhere.

“Here, not nearly as strong as what I got for myself.” You grinned as you handed him a cup. He took a sip and nodded, smiling back at you.

“Not bad,” His eyes ran up and down your body. “Bet you’d be sweeter though.”

Your grin sharpened as you took his hand again, pulling him towards the stairs.

“You’re so pretty,” Mingi muttered against your skin, his hot breath raising goosebumps along your neck. His hands were so large and burning as they trailed down your chest. You were more than a little drunk, and that meant you were more sensitive. “So fucking gorgeous...”

“Mingi...” You whined as the larger boy continued to tease you with light touches. He grinned down at you as he slid your jeans off. You felt the cool air of the room hit your bare ass, the lace panties you decided to wear that evening barely covering anything.

“God Lix-” Mingi froze, his hand on your thigh. Your head was far too bubbly for you to realize why the larger boy stopped, so all you could do was whine at the lack of physical contact. Mingi’s hands were so nice and large and warm and you were starting to get cold now that you were minus most of your clothing.

“Why did you stop-?” You sat up, only to freeze yourself.

Mingi was staring at your leg, the only light in the room coming from the moon shining through the window, but it was enough to show everything - everything you’ve tried to hide.

“It-it’s not what you think-” You began to tremble as he ghosted a hand over your scars.

“You must’ve been hurting for so long...” Mingi whispered, his face hidden in the shadows. “Does anyone know?”

“Ch-Chan,” You admitted. You no longer felt bubbly and light and sexy. You now felt disgusting and horrible. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your comforter around your bare legs and go to sleep, pretending this never happened. “The others in the house...”

“Hey... hey it’s okay,” Mingi was now looking up at you. His eyes were wide and compassionate, and it only made you feel even worse. You didn’t realize you were crying until he reached up to wipe the tears away. “You’re okay. It’s alright.”

“Don't-don't look at me,” You started sobbing, curling in on yourself. If you made yourself as small as possible, he wouldn’t be able to see how shattered you were. “I’m ugly... please don’t look at me...”

“Felix, you’re not ugly at all,” Mingi reached and pulled the blanket around you, making sure every part of your body was covered except your face and pulling you into his arms, resting your cheek against his chest. “You’re beautiful, and scars don’t change that.”

“I’m so worthless,” You sobbed, trying to pull away from him. “You shouldn’t- you can’t- you gotta...”

“You’re drunk,” Mingi hummed. He sounded close to tears himself, and you felt even guiltier. This was supposed to be a party and you were ruining the night. All you wanted was to get laid, but of course you had to pick probably the one person who would actually care about your scars. Anyone else would have ignored them and bent you in half, but of course Mingi had to be a kind, caring person. “We’re both drunk. We shouldn’t have done this, at least not until we're sober.”

“I’m sorry,” You blubbered wetly. You could feel snot and tears soaking into your blanket but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “I’m sorry please don’t hate me. I’m so sorry I ruined everything-”

“Shhh, you didn’t ruin anything,” Mingi rocked you gently. You felt safe. “You’re okay. You’re not broken. I couldn’t hate you for this.”

“I ruined your night,” You could only cry harder. “This w-was supposed to-to-to be a party and now you-you’re up here with s-some freak you barely know instead of being with your friends and after I l-led you on like this-”

“Stop,” Mingi said firmly. You felt your jaw click shut at the gentle, commanding tone of his voice. “Felix, you did NOT ruin anything. I’m so, so glad I’m the one helping you through this, because someone else might not have cared enough to be kind, and you’re so... so good. You’re so good that you only deserve to be treated gently... I wish I could- I could word things better... if I was sober I could, but words aren’t easy right now.”

“You should go back to the party,” You whispered, your tears finally slowing. “I’ll be okay. I’m always okay after a panic attack.”

“Do you... deal with them alone a lot?”

You just shrugged. He was silent for a moment before maneuvering you both to lay down on the bed.

“Let’s just nap for a little bit, okay? We can both go back down after.”

“Okay...” Your eyes were so heavy. You were too warm wrapped in the blanket, but you wouldn’t take it off because then you would be too exposed.

You could feel yourself slipping off to sleep and you wondered why you even bothered with the pills when a bottle of tequila did the same thing. Sighing, you let yourself slip into unconsciousness.

After a while you shifted, an arm around your waist. You groaned, your head pounding like you had been hit by a car. Listening carefully, you realized the house was silent. Cracking an eye open, you light filtering through the window.

What time was it?

You sat up, causing the person next to you to wake.

“Lix?” Chan’s voice was deep and gravely. If you weren’t so hungover, you might find it attractive, but you were too focused on not throwing up on your blanket.

“Wh-when did you get here?” You asked, your words still slurring a little. Were you still drunk? Considering how gone you were the night before, it could be entirely possible.

The night before came back in pieces. The party, drinking, drinking more, Mingi, kissing him and drinking more. Coming up to your room...

Panicking, crying, needing Mingi to reassure you over and over again.

“Your friend came to find me around one,” Chan sat up, handing you a water bottle. After a moment of studying your face, he also handed you an empty trashcan. “He said... you had a panic attack and that you would probably want to wake up next to me rather than him.”

“Fuck...” You breathed, trying to keep your stomach in check. You checked your phone and saw a few messages from an unknown number. All you needed to do was read the preview of the first text to know it was Mingi, checking up on you. “God damnit.”

“Pixie... what happened?”

“I freaked the fuck out because I’m broken,” You spat. Before Chan could respond, your body convulsed. You threw up into the trash can, grimacing at the taste but internally feeling relieved to get this shit out of your stomach. “Fuck... this is why I don’t fucking drink that much anymore...”

Chan just rubbed your back quietly. He remembered how fucked up you used to get - how you would call him at two in the morning, so drunk he couldn’t understand a single thing you were saying.

“I don’t feel good...” You whisper sadly.

“I know baby, but it’ll go away in a little bit.” He pushed your sweaty bangs back from your forehead.

“I feel... shattered,” Tears dripped into the bile in the trash can. “I hate myself so much...”

“Oh Lix....” Chan sounded as broken as you felt.

The can was taken from your arms as you started to cry. Chan pulled you into his lap, wrapping you in the safety of his embrace. You never felt more at home than when you were with Chan. His arms tightened around your waist, and not for the first time you wished there was even a fraction of a chance that Chan could find you desirable.

He would be the perfect boyfriend...

Just not to you.

* * *

For once you were glad the house was empty. You needed this, and you were going to take your time on it.

You stretched yourself carefully, one hand reaching behind you while the other stroked yourself from the front. It had been a long time since you genuinely touched yourself, rather than getting off as quickly and quietly as you could. Now you could let low moans and whimpers slip past your lips without any worry of being heard.

You imagined your faceless boy again. He had no identity, but you knew he was handsome. Handsome, and strong, and knew exactly how to touch you to make fires ignite in your blood.

“So good for me,” The boy would say to you. “Taking my fingers so well... What I wouldn’t give to tie you up and play with you all day...”

“Yes...” You whispered to no one.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” The boy smirked at you. “So good and pliant for me?”

You imagine what it would feel like for the boy to wrap his hand around your neck, his fingers so large that they can almost touch the back of your throat. You could feel your heartbeat race at the thought. Oh how you wished to have a pretty boy you choke you as he called you good.

“Ah-ah-” Your gasps came quick and light, wiping your hand on your blanket as you wrapped your own hand around your throat, desperately bucking into your other hand. The faceless boy bit your lip, hypothetically, and you could feel your orgasm coiling in the pit of your stomach.

“CHAN~” You moaned as you came, your thighs trembling from the intensity of it. White had splattered up your chest, sticking to the bottom of your chin. You let out a shaking laugh as you rode out your high.

For the first time in what felt like months, cumming actually managed to scratch that itch in your chest that only cutting seemed to help.

It was only when you were coming down from your glow that you realized what name you had called out when you came.

Instantly your body went cold. You couldn’t have feelings for Chan - you weren't good enough to have feelings for the older boy. You would do nothing but bring him down...

“He’ll never find out.” You whispered to yourself as you went to the bathroom to clean yourself up. No one would be home for a while more, so you didn’t have to worry about hogging all the hot water.

You turned the shower on, letting the steam rise and fog the mirror up, but didn’t step under the water just yet. Your hands twitched as you reached for your leg, Your nails dug into the fading lines, but it wasn’t enough.

You were disgusting! How could you think of your friend like that? Chan would be horrified to know you jerked off to the thought of him. He would hate you-

“He would hate you,” You growled, locking eyes with your reflection. “He would hate you! He would HATE YOU!”

You didn’t realize you had thrown a fist as the mirror until pain shot up your arm. Glass shattered around you, leaving a layer of glittering shards on the sink and the floor. Red dripped onto the pieces, the bright red seeming to drain all the color from around it.

You began to shake. You could see glass stuck in your knuckles, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t ENOUGH-

Just like you weren’t enough.

You fell to your knees. You could feel glass digging into your skin but you didn’t care. You reached for one of the larger shards, gripping it tightly. The sharp edge slit into your palm but it only made you giggle.

You were a mistake. A disaster. No one could love someone like you.

The shard slid across your thigh easily, almost no resistance as it split your skin open in a way that was so familiar that it brought tears to your eyes. You’ve missed this... this control and this adrenaline and this scent of iron that made you head spin.

Why did you ever stop doing this in the first place? It wasn’t like hurting yourself would cause harm to anyone else. It was your body, and isn’t the saying ‘my body my choice’? Shouldn’t you be allowed to do with your own body whatever you wanted? People got tattoos that stained their skin - at least your scars will fade someday. They aren’t nearly as permanent as the ink that people bury deep into their flesh.

Besides... it helped. It made the bad feelings in your chest that made it hard to breathe go away. If it helped, was it really that bad? Chan cried the last time he caught you hurting yourself. He hadn’t said anything, he just helped clean your wounds and bandage your leg and dry your tears.

But why? You didn’t hurt him.

Your hand shook as you made another line. Your thigh was a mess - It wasn’t the worst you’ve done, but at the same time you hadn’t done this much damage to yourself in many years. Your vision blurred a little from the tears and you were starting to panic.

No one would be home for hours. If you started hyperventilating and passed out, they would find you like this, shower running and blood drying on the bathroom tiles. They would know - they would know how pathetic and hideous you really were.

Chan was the only one who had seen your leg for himself. The others knew you self-harmed, but they’ve never seen it. You didn’t want them to see.

So you dragged yourself into a sitting position. There was so much red. How did your body have so much blood in it?

There was a muffled thump from somewhere outside the bathroom, but you didn’t care. You didn’t CARE-

“What’s the point?” You muttered to yourself, slumping against the edge of the tub. You weakly tried mopping the blood up from the floor, but what did it matter?

Was there any point? Any point in fighting, or trying to hide? Why try so hard to seem okay when you’re constantly breaking down? Why try to find someone to love you, when you’re completely unlovable?

No one could love you the way you want to love them. You have this ideal partner in your head, but they would never really exist.

Even if they did exist, they would never love you.

“Lixie baby, look at me,” A hand cupped your face. The hand seemed to brand your skin from how hot it was. When had the door opened? “Felix? Can you hear me?”

You just stared at the floor, your eyes unable to focus on the red running along the lines of spackle between the tiles. Why were they bothering? You weren’t worth it.

“Oh my god-”

“There’s s-so much blood...”

“Call the paramedics!”

“N-no...” Your voice was so weak, you didn’t know how anyone could hear you. Despite this, the chaos seemed to freeze entirely. “No hospital... I’m fine... I promise...”

“You’re bleeding out!”

“Heh... just went a little overboard,” Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment but you forced them open again. “I’ll be fine... They’re already.... Clotting.”

“He knows what he’s talking about,” Another voice joined in, just as close as the first one. Something ran along your leg. “The cuts have already stopped bleeding. I think it’s more the shock and the panic attack than anything else...”

“Hyunjin, go grab another pair of tweezers from the other bathroom.” Whoever was holding you spoke, their words vibrating through your chest. “We need to get the glass out of his hand and knees.”

“I’m sorry...” You whispered, tears running sluggishly down your face. “You weren’t supposed to- to see.”

“You’ll be alright Pixie,” Chan murmured, brushing your hair from your face. Part of you wished you could pass out, but you were already more aware of your surroundings. You could hear crying coming from the living room, but you couldn’t tell who it was. As the adrenaline left your system, you began to shake. “Here, open your mouth.”

You did as you were told. Chan shoved a straw between your lips and you took a sip without thinking. Sweet juice flooded your tongue, so cold it made you jump a little. It was... delicious. You started sobbing more as you drained the rest.

“You’re doing so well for me,” Chan rubbed your back. “Do you want more juice? You lost a lot of blood.”

“Y-yes please...” You muttered, embarrassment and shame beginning to override the pain and adrenaline. “Chan-”

“Shh, it’s okay baby,” Chan smiled at you, and for a moment you believed him. “I’m going to clean your leg, alright? Let me know if it hurts and I’ll be more gentle.”

You sipped on the second juice pouch as you watched Chan carefully wipe the drying blood from your thigh. You felt that you should be more upset, but in that moment you were apathetic and more focused on the headache that was starting to build behind your eyes. You could barely feel the wet cloth that ran over the cuts. They weren’t nearly as deep as that had seemed at first, which was a small comfort. Rather than them being deep, it was just the sheer number of thin, shallow cuts that gave the illusion of something more dangerous.

Chan taped gauze over the expanse of your thigh, making sure the edges were sealed properly so the wounds would stay safe and clean.

“Now we’re going to get the glass out, okay?” Chan’s voice was steady. You wondered how he could be so calm in this situation - the situation that you yourself caused for the others, forcing them to deal with your bullshit because you couldn’t handle your own mind-

You winced.

“Sorry hyung...” Jeongin said from your left. He was picking glass from your knee. Chan was doing the same with your right hand, while Hyunjin and Jisung swept up as much of the broken mirror as they could.

“Thanks Innie,” You muttered, leaning your head against Chan’s chest. He looked around, realizing there were faces missing. “Where’s...?”

“Seungmin... he started to panic at how much blood there was,” Jisung answered, as if he were afraid to deliver bad news. You closed your eyes and let out a long sigh. “Minho hyung and Changbin hyung went to calm him down.”

“I’m sorry,” You said again, the words falling from bitten lips as easy as your tears. “This is all my fault.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Chan asked, pausing what he was doing. There was a small pile of red glass next to him on the floor.

“Didn’t want to be a bother...” What was the point in lying now? “Normally... normally I can just jerk off and shower and take a nap and it goes away but...”

“But it didn’t go away?” Chan supplied, his words weighed down with empathy.

“It wouldn’t go away.” You confirmed, your face twisting with a fresh wave of tears. “I wanted to- I wanted to deal with it myself, cuz-cuz you won’t be able to help me all the time. I need to learn to handle things on my own, but I-I fucked up-”

“You didn’t fuck anything up,” Chan cut you off softly. “You’re hurting, and you did what you could to make the pain stop.”

“I shouldn't be this fucked up. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” You almost wished they would be rougher as they bandaged your hand and knees. You didn’t deserve them being so gentle. “I just want to be normal.”

“None of us are normal,” Hyunjin sat behind you, resting his back against your own. You could feel his words through your chest as he let his head fall back onto your shoulder. “We’re all a little fucked up, but that’s okay because we have each other.”

“I have really bad anxiety,” Jisung suddenly chimed up. “I talk to the school counselors, and they’ve started me on a new medication.”

“I’ve been working through an eating disorder for the better part of the last two years,” Hyunjin admitted softly. By the way Chan inhaled sharply, you guessed it was something the eldest of their group wasn’t aware of. “It’s been hard, because the thoughts come back when I don’t expect it, but it’s been getting easier because everyone is so good with eating as a family. It makes it less scary to eat.”

“You’re only as fucked up as we are,” Jeongin added, taking your uninjured hand. “Are we not worth helping because we’re too broken?”

“Of course not!” How could he even ask that? How could he- “Oh...”

“Mm, exactly,” Chan hummed, petting your head. “Let us take care of you, okay kitten?”

“I-I’m a bad friend...” You whimpered, wanting to disappear into the floor. After everything Chan has done for you - he cared for you, cleaned your cuts, made sure you ate. He held you while you cried and sang to you when you couldn’t sleep. He made you laugh when you got your heart broken and stayed up to help you study - and how did you repay him?

By turning him into something dirty, even if it was just in your mind.

“You’re not a bad friend,” Chan picked you up easily. It was then that you remembered you were in nothing but your underwear. You curled into Chan’s chest, trying to hide yourself from the others when you felt something being draped over your chest. Looking up, you saw Minho tucking his sweatshirt around you as well as he could with you being held. “We all love you, no matter what.”

“Chan...” Your eyes burned again.

“Why don’t we go get dressed, and something to eat, eh?” Chan smiled at you, and there was no sign of hate or disgust. “We can talk later, when you’re comfortable.”

“I don’t wanna...”

“I know baby, but this isn’t something we can just... ignore,” Chan’s smile dropped. “What if we hadn’t come home early? What if you had passed out in the bathroom? You would have laid there... all alone in your own blood for-for hours.”

“I would have woken up and cleaned it all up before anyone got home,” You muttered, dreading the conversation you were going to have to have after dinner. “It would have been fine.”

“Mm, maybe, but now we can help you better,” Chan set you on your bed. “Now, you don’t have to hide anything from us anymore.”

“... ‘m scared,” You admitted quietly. Chan didn’t interrupt as you gathered your thoughts, instead helping you put on a pair of sweatpants and your favorite hoodie. “I don’t- I don’t know what’s going to happen now.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” Chan nudged your cheek with his nose, his lips gently brushing against your face. “Because you’re not going to have to do this alone. Facing a monster with seven people by your side is a lot less scary than doing it alone, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” You gave the older boy a weak smile. You could still feel how pale you must have been, and your hands were shaking, but overall you felt calmer. “Yeah, maybe it won’t be so bad...”

“I’m so proud of you Lixie.”

“For what?” You looked up, your eyebrows meeting in the middle.

“For making it this far,” Chan knelt in front of you and cupped your cheeks again. You leaned into the touch. “For fighting this long. For being so fucking strong... You’re amazing Felix. I’m so fucking proud of you, and you don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

You wanted to respond - to thank him, or apologize, or something - but instead you just burst into tears again, throwing your slim body against his. He instantly wrapped you in his strong arms, holding you as if he were afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

“You’re so strong,” he whispered to you. “I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be alright. You’re so beautiful Lixie. I love you so much. You’ve done so well.”

You cried for all the times you wanted to call him but couldn’t. You cried for all the times you looked at yourself in the mirror and felt nothing but hate, and for all the times you tried to substitute actual affection for empty orgasms and all the times you thought about leaving your friends for good.

“Is he asleep?” Seungmin poked his head in to see you curled against Chan’s chest.

“Mm, I’ll wake him in a little bit, but he needs this.”

“I’ll let Minho hyung know.” he turned to leave, only to be stopped.

“Are you alright Minnie?” Chan asked, turning his concerned look towards Seungmin.

“Better,” He admitted. “Minho hyung helped calm me down and Changbin hyung got me some water...”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Is he going to be okay?” Seungmin looked up at Chan, and in that moment the boy looked heartbreakingly young.

“Mm, I think he’s going to be okay,” Chan subconsciously held you a little closer to his chest. “After he eats and we have a nice long talk, we’ll be able to get him back on the right track again.”

“Jisung could get him a meeting with the school therapists,” Seungmin suggested hesitantly. “He goes once a week, so many he can figure out who Felix should talk to.”

“That might just work Minnie,” Chan smiled at him. “Why don’t you go help pick what we’re going to order for dinner? I can hear the others arguing from here.”

“Okay hyung.” Seungmin nodded. He hesitated, looking at you for a single moment longer before leaving the room.

See, little did you know, the others were more than aware of how bad things had been for you recently. Jisung noticed how you scratched your arms. Hyunjin saw the pain in the tight smiles you gave them. Changbin knew when you were having a bad day because you would speak oh so softly. Seungmin noticed how you stopped eating as much. Jeongin saw how you’ve been pulling away from them. Minho heard the muffled cries when you thought no one was home, or awake.

They’ve all been worried, but none of them knew how to bring it up without having you pull away from them even more.

In a sense, they were all relieved by what happened, because now there was no excuse to let this keep going by any longer. You couldn’t hide behind fake smiles and excuses that your stomach hurt to get out of meals anymore. You HAD to face this now, and they were going to help, even if you tried to push them away.

Because they loved you, more than you ever seemed to realize.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I write this all in one sitting? Yes. Do I feel better now that I got this out? A little bit, actually. I don't know what's going on with me rn but hopefully writing vent fics like this occasionally will be enough to keep me from absolutely losing my mind lmao I just need to sort through the crushing realization that I'll probably never find someone who makes me feel as safe as Chris does, and that I'm setting myself up for failure by thinking I could XD 
> 
> If there's anything you think I should add to the tags, let me know. I tend to be a bit desensitized to SH/depression/etc. so I tend to miss things that might be triggering to other people.


End file.
